Mark: Alright, Michelle. The book is ‘Hinch Yourself Happy.’ The author names her cleaning cloths. What's your first, gut reaction? Michelle: My gut reaction is that my vacuum cleaner is about to get a restraining order if I try to name it. This sounds… adorably unhinged. Mark: Adorably unhinged is the perfect way to put it! And that's the magic of Sophie Hinchliffe, or Mrs Hinch, as millions know her. What's fascinating is that she wasn't a professional cleaner; she was a hairdresser who started an Instagram account in March 2018 to share home photos, and it just exploded. Michelle: Exploded is an understatement, right? I remember her name being everywhere. Mark: Everywhere. She became one of the UK's fastest-selling non-fiction authors, all because she reframed cleaning not as a chore, but as a way to soothe her own very real anxiety. Michelle: Okay, that adds a layer. So it's not just about sparkling sinks, it's about a sparkling soul, so to speak? Mark: Exactly. And that journey from chore to therapy, for her, starts in a very strange and wonderful place: her own personal dictionary. Michelle: A dictionary for cleaning? Mark: A ‘Hinchionary,’ to be precise.

Michelle: Okay, I'm intrigued and a little scared. What on earth is a ‘Hinchionary’? Is it just cute names for sponges? Mark: It starts there, but it goes so much deeper. It’s a whole lexicon she and her followers, the 'Hinchers,' created. It’s full of terms like 'Bargs' for bargains, 'Hinch Hauls' for shopping trips, and of course, the names for her cleaning tools. Her Minky cleaning pad, for example, is named ‘Minkeh.’ Michelle: Minkeh. Of course it is. Mark: But it's not just a name. She tells this story about how she started personifying Minkeh on her Instagram. She even dressed it up in a tiny Elf on the Shelf bathrobe. Her followers went wild. They started creating their own scenarios, using the hashtag #minkonthesink. It became this massive inside joke, a shared narrative. The Minky website actually crashed from the demand. Michelle: Hold on. A cleaning pad became a viral character? That’s brilliant marketing, intentional or not. It's not just naming it; it's creating a whole narrative around it. You're turning your house into a cast of characters. Mark: Precisely! It gamifies the whole process. Suddenly, you're not just scrubbing a countertop; you're on an adventure with your little cleaning sidekick. It lowers the barrier to entry for a task most of us dread. Michelle: I can see that. It’s less ‘Ugh, I have to clean the bathroom’ and more ‘Alright, Buddy, let’s go to war with this grout.’ Mark: And ‘Buddy’ is another one! That’s her yellow cloth. A follower suggested the name, she adopted it, and now thousands of people have their own ‘Buddies.’ It’s this incredible act of community-building around the most mundane objects. It also extends to places. Her cleaning product storage wardrobe is called ‘Narnia.’ Michelle: Narnia? Why Narnia? Mark: Because her husband, Jamie, saw it for the first time, packed with all these colorful bottles and sprays, and said, "Oh my God, babe, it’s like Narnia in there." And the name stuck. It transforms a cluttered cupboard into a magical world you step into. Michelle: That’s actually quite clever. It reframes the whole experience. But does this apply to bigger things? It’s one thing to name a cloth, but what about, say, furniture? Mark: Absolutely. And it’s tied to this idea that value isn't about price tags. She tells this wonderful story about an old ottoman she found at a boot sale. It was broken, but she saw its potential. She took it home, painted it, re-covered the seat with fabric she ordered online, and it became this cherished piece in her lounge. Michelle: The ‘junk trunk,’ as she calls it. Mark: Exactly. She says, "One person’s trash is another person’s treasure." By investing her own time and effort, the ottoman became more valuable to her than any expensive designer piece. She created a story for it. It’s the same principle as naming Minkeh. It’s about personal investment creating emotional connection. Michelle: Okay, I'm starting to get it. The Hinchionary isn't just a list of silly names. It's a system for building a relationship with your home and the act of caring for it. It’s about turning monologue chores into a dialogue with your environment. Mark: A dialogue! I love that. And that dialogue, that relationship, becomes incredibly important when you look at the real reason she started all of this. Michelle: This is all fun, but you mentioned anxiety. That feels like the real core of this. How does naming a cloth connect to something as serious as a panic attack?

Mark: It’s the bridge. The fun, gamified part of the Hinchionary makes the act of cleaning accessible. And once you start cleaning, you unlock its therapeutic power. For her, this was a lifeline. She says in the book, and this is a direct quote, "Cleaning has been my saviour in a lot of ways." Michelle: A saviour. That's a powerful word. What was she being saved from? Mark: From a lot. She’s incredibly open in the book about her struggles. At 21, feeling insecure and pressured by society, she secretly took out a £6,000 loan for a gastric band. Michelle: Wow. At 21? Mark: Yes, and it turned into a nightmare. A few years later, the band slipped and got wedged in her esophagus, requiring emergency surgery. Later, she had another surgery to remove excess skin from her arms, which resulted in a severe internal infection that put her in the hospital for two weeks. She describes her arms being hooked up through foam hoops to drain the infection. It was a period of intense physical pain and a total loss of control over her own body. Michelle: That’s horrifying. I can't even imagine. So where does cleaning fit into that? Mark: It was during this time, feeling anxious and lonely after moving in with her husband, that her mum gave her a bottle of Zoflora, a disinfectant. She was skeptical, but she tried it. And the simple, repetitive act of cleaning the floors, the smell, the visible result—it gave her a small, tangible piece of the world that she could control. When everything else felt chaotic and painful, she could make her sink shine. Michelle: Wow, that’s heavy. So the 'tidy house, tidy mind' saying is literal for her. It's not a cute phrase; it's a survival strategy. It’s about creating external order to find internal calm. Mark: It’s exactly a survival strategy. She tells another story about being on the flight back from her honeymoon. Everything should have been perfect—she was newly married, her career was taking off—and suddenly, in the dark of the plane, she’s hit with a massive panic attack. A 'pit of despair,' she calls it. She didn't wake her husband; she just covered herself with a blanket and focused on her breathing, on finding one small thing to anchor her. That’s what cleaning is for her. It’s the anchor. Michelle: That's incredibly relatable. The idea that anxiety doesn't care if you're "supposed" to be happy. It can show up anywhere. And having a go-to mechanism, whether it's deep breathing or, in her case, scrubbing a surface, is crucial. Mark: And it’s what made her resonate with millions. This wasn't an expert in an ivory tower. This was a regular person saying, "I get anxious, and this is what helps me. Maybe it can help you too." She tapped into this huge, unspoken need. It’s why the term "Hinching" entered the popular vocabulary in the UK. It became a verb for this specific type of therapeutic cleaning. Michelle: It’s interesting how this coincides with the rise of what people call "cleanfluencers." But she seems to have added this layer of mental wellness that others maybe didn't focus on so explicitly. Mark: She pioneered it. She made it okay to talk about anxiety and cleaning in the same sentence. She tells a story about transforming her messy understairs cupboard—her 'Harry Potter cupboard'—from a source of misery into an organized space. She says, "The age-old saying ‘tidy house, tidy mind’ really does ring true for me." Every shelf she put up, every item she organized, was an act of defiance against the chaos in her mind. Michelle: It’s a form of mindfulness, really. You’re so focused on the physical task—the scrubbing, the sorting, the wiping—that your brain doesn't have the bandwidth to spiral into anxious thoughts. You’re just present with the task. Mark: And you get a reward at the end! A clean space. It’s a perfect feedback loop. She even has specific routines for it, like her 'Fresh’n Up Friday.' The idea is to do a quick, focused clean on Friday evening so you can wake up on Saturday to a fresh house and a clear mind, ready to relax. Michelle: I love that. It’s proactive self-care. You're setting your future self up for a better, calmer weekend. It’s not about perfection; it’s about peace. Mark: Exactly. And that’s the core message that people sometimes miss. It’s not about having a home that looks like a magazine. It’s about having a home that feels like a sanctuary.

Michelle: You know, hearing all this, it’s clear the book is much more than just cleaning tips. It’s a memoir about finding a coping mechanism that works. Mark: It is. The 'Hinchionary' isn't just a gimmick. It’s the entry point. It’s the spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine—the act of cleaning—go down. It makes it approachable and fun, which then unlocks its deeper, therapeutic power. Michelle: It’s a two-step process. First, you make it fun with names and stories. Then, you discover the profound mental health benefits of the practice itself. Mark: And it’s all grounded in this radical vulnerability. She’s not afraid to share the messy parts of her life—the health scares, the anxiety, the insecurities. And in doing so, she gives millions of people permission to be imperfect and to find their own ways of coping. Michelle: It makes me look at my own 'stress-cleaning' differently. It's not just about avoiding work or procrastinating. It’s my brain’s attempt to create order when I feel overwhelmed. Mark: And that’s a powerful realization. Maybe the challenge for all of us, after reading this, isn't to go out and name our mops, though you can if you want to! Michelle: My vacuum is safe, for now. Mark: But it’s to find that one small, repetitive, physical task that brings a moment of calm. Whether it’s weeding a garden, organizing a bookshelf, or, yes, shining your sink. It’s about finding your own personal 'Hinch.' Michelle: I'm genuinely curious what our listeners' 'Hinching' activities are. The things you do, maybe without even realizing it, to find calm in the chaos. Let us know. It’s a conversation worth having. Mark: It absolutely is. Because as Mrs. Hinch says, and it’s a perfect way to end, "We should all be kinder to ourselves, and to each other." Michelle: All the best to that. Mark: This is Aibrary, signing off.